15: Chapter 15 First Glimpse of Hogwarts

The train slowed down in the night.

The screeching of wheels against the rails dragged into the carriage. Crabbe, who had been fast asleep, was jolted awake, his head hitting the window frame as he sat up, clutching his forehead.

Goyle looked at him: "Is it dinner time?"

Draco's face darkened: "We've arrived at school."

Allen opened his eyes.

Outside the window, it was no longer the fields on the outskirts of London. In the distance, the silhouettes of mountains pressed against the night sky, dim yellow lights hung on the platform, and the wind carried the dampness of the lake.

They had arrived at Hogsmeade station.

Students squeezed out of the carriages, owls hooted chaotically, and trunks banged against the floorboards. Older students headed toward the carriages with practiced ease, while the first-years clogged the platform, many clutching their school bags and looking around.

Hagrid's booming voice came from the front.

"First-years! First-years over here! Harry, over here!"

Harry was holding Hedwig, with Ron following beside him. The two were easy to spot in the crowd—one with a scar on his forehead, the other with red hair.

Seeing them, Draco habitually wanted to say something.

Allen spoke first: "Don't."

Draco swallowed his words and frowned at him.

Allen got off the train carrying his empty trunk: "We've already embarrassed ourselves once on the train; don't go for a second round."

Crabbe couldn't help but chuckle.

Draco turned around: "What are you laughing at?"

Crabbe immediately shut his mouth.

Goyle added seriously: "He makes sense."

Draco looked at Goyle for three seconds, then finally gave up on trying to educate him.

Allen walked at the back of the crowd. His real luggage was all in his Portable Space, and the old trunk in his hand was light enough to be blown away by the wind. This was good. No one would put a first-year student with empty luggage and who looked exhausted on a danger list.

At the end of the platform, Hagrid held up a lamp and led the first-years down a steep slope.

The night wind blew up from the valley, carrying the scent of soil and cold water. A few Muggle-born students were already shivering. Up ahead, Ron was whispering to Harry about the tradition, but his voice was shredded by the wind and didn't reach those behind him.

Draco, not far from Allen, lowered his voice: "Why aren't we taking the carriages?"

"Tradition."

"Troublesome tradition."

"Hogwarts is very good at this."

Draco understood half of it and decided not to ask further. There was a downside to talking to Allen; asking too much made him look brainless.

At the end of the slope was the Black Lake.

The water was dark, and a row of small boats was moored at the shore. Each boat could hold at most four people. Hagrid stood at the very front, his beard illuminated by the light.

"Four to a boat! Don't move around, and if you fall in, nobody wants to fish you out a second time!"

The first-years began to board the boats.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville sat in one boat. Draco had originally wanted to share a boat with Allen, but Crabbe and Goyle had already squeezed in on his left and right.

The small boat sank abruptly.

Draco stood on the bank, his face looking even worse.

Allen looked at the low arc of the boat's edge: "Are you sure you still want to get on?"

Goyle looked down at the water: "Will it sink?"

Crabbe also looked down: "I don't know how to swim."

Draco turned and went to another boat.

Allen sat at the stern and closed his eyes to rest. Void coiled on the stone slab in his Portable Space, its silver vertical pupils staring at the image projected from the outside world. The Black Lake was not friendly to Spatial Perception; there were many fluctuations of magic creatures underwater, dense and chaotic.

The small boats moved forward automatically without oars.

The lake was quiet, with only the sound of the boats gliding through the water. The first-years' chatter died down. No matter how arrogant or excited one was, they would restrain themselves on this lake.

After the boats had traveled a distance, gasps of awe came from ahead.

Allen opened his eyes.

Hogwarts appeared on the cliff.

The Castle lights formed a vast expanse, towers crisscrossed at different heights, and the firelight from the windows fell into the Black Lake, fractured by the ripples. The mountain wall supported the stone walls, ancient and unreasonably so. It didn't look like a school; it looked more like a fortress that trampled time beneath its feet.

From Harry's boat came Ron's voice: "Merlin…"

Hermione stopped reciting books as well.

It was quiet on Draco's side for two seconds before he muttered: "Not bad."

Allen heard it and couldn't be bothered to expose him.

Master Malfoy's ability to be stubborn had certainly graduated earlier than his Charms.

But Allen's attention quickly shifted away from the others.

His Portable Space moved slightly.

It wasn't expanding; it was responding.

The blackthorn wand vibrated lightly in the space, the cracked pocket watch seeped blue light, and Void raised its head, flicking its tongue toward the Castle.

Allen sat up straight.

There was a barrier on the outer layer of the Castle.

Ordinary protective Charms, Muggle-repelling Charms, anti-Apparition Charms—these were just on the surface. Deeper down, there were multiple layers of Spatial Folding stacked between the stone walls, towers, staircases, and corridors. It wasn't a crude piling of spells, but rather turning the entire Castle into a living structure.

No wonder the staircases at Hogwarts changed.

No wonder the Room of Requirement could hide in the Castle for so long.

This place was not a normal building from the root up.

What the four founders left behind was much more troublesome than what was written in the textbooks. Wizards from a thousand years ago didn't have the registration forms and approval stamps of the modern Ministry of Magic; they were cleaner when they acted. What needed to be hidden was hidden, what needed to be sealed was sealed, and entrances that needed to be killed were blocked off directly.

For the first time, Allen felt interested in this school.

It wasn't a student's yearning for a prestigious school.

It was a hunter seeing an entire unmined deposit.

As the small boat approached the cave under the cliff, the spatial pulling became clearer. The boundary of Allen's Portable Space contracted and expanded gently, as if testing the frequency of the Castle's barrier.

He didn't force a collision.

This was Dumbledore's territory, and also a lair built up by a thousand years of magic. If a new student reached out recklessly on the first day, they wouldn't necessarily die, but they would be watched.

Low profile.

Stay low profile.

Crabbe suddenly asked: "Potter, why aren't you saying anything?"

Allen looked at him: "What do you want me to say?"

Crabbe thought for a moment: "The Castle is big?"

"Mm."

Goyle chimed in: "Will the dining hall be big too?"

Allen glanced at him: "Your ability to grasp the main point is not bad."

Goyle nodded with satisfaction: "I think so too."

Crabbe showed an envious expression. Draco wasn't in this boat, and with no one to scold them, the two big guys were rarely relaxed.

The small boat passed through the cave and stopped by a rocky beach.

Hagrid held the lamp high: "Everyone off! Watch your step! Don't leave any toads on the boat!"

Neville panicked: "Trevor!"

After a flurry of chaos, the toad jumped out from the bottom of the boat, nearly leaping into the lake. Harry helped stop it, and Neville thanked him repeatedly.

Allen passed by without stopping.

The Chosen One's popularity was accumulating along the original path. Very good.

The stone steps extended upward, dampness clinging to the soles of their shoes. The first-years formed a loose line, following Hagrid toward the Castle gate.

The closer they got, the heavier the resonance in Allen's space became.

That was not a welcome.

It was more like some ancient mechanism sensing a peer approaching, casting a scrutiny through the thick stone walls.

Allen lowered his eyes, suppressing the fluctuation of his wand, and sealed his Portable Space tightly.

He was here to go to school.

At least for tonight, he had to be.

In front of the great gate, Hagrid stopped and raised his large fist to knock.

Footsteps came from behind the door.

Allen looked up at the depths of the Castle.

There was a very faint spatial echo, hidden behind countless barriers, short, restrained, yet precisely landing on the edge of his perception.

It was like someone had knocked on a door in the dark.

And that door had only opened a crack for him.